Saturday, April 18, 2020

The Vincent Price Blogathon – Day 2 Recap



Day Two of the Vincent Prince Blogathon is upon us, and we have another bumper crop of posts, with Edgar Allan Poe, creepy houses, flying mammals, gothic romance, the silly side of Mr. Price, a double dose of biopics, TV, radio drama, and Vincent singing!  

If you plan to participate but you’re not quite ready, fear not, we’ll post your link on Day Three. Post a comment below, email me at barry_cinematic@yahoo.com, or reach me on Twitter (@barry_cinematic). You may also contact Gill by commenting on her post, through her blog’s Contact Me page, or on Twitter (@realweegiemidge).

In addition to today’s links, be sure to visit the Day 1 Recap, and stay tuned for Day 3!

Reminder: The deadline to enter for a chance to win an Italian poster pair (below) for The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), courtesy of Westgate Gallery, is 11:59 p.m. (Pacific Time) on Saturday, April 18th (See the Day 1 Recap for contest details). The winner will be selected by random drawing on Sunday, April 19th, and announced on the Day 3 Recap. Good luck to all everyone who entered!

Here are the submissions for Day Two. Be sure to check out the following links and remember to tune in Sunday for Day Three.

Get your clicker ready, because it’s time for Caftan Woman to discuss Vincent’s TV appearance on Have Gun Will Travel, “The Moor’s Revenge.”

What’s that behind you? Never fear, as Sally Silverscreen from 18 Cinema Lane is our guide for the House of the Long Shadows (1983).



Shawn Hall from The Everyday Cinephile looks at Brigham Young (1940).

You’d have to be bats to miss Constance and Diana Metzinger’s review of The Bat (1959) on their blog, Silver Scenes.

Karavansara gives the 1947 radio drama The Saint a listen.

 Swing on by John V’s Eclectic Avenue, and read his review of The Pit and the Pendulum (1961).
           
Stop by The Midnite Drive-In for an eye-popping double feature of Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (1965) & Dr. Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs (1966).

Paul Batters from Silver Screen Classics pays his respects to The Tomb of Ligeia (1964).

 Peter Fuller from Vincent Price Legacy UK explores the musical side of Mr. Price.

 Movie Rob is back to talk about Brigham Young (1940).


Vinnie Harris dares us to spend the night inside the House on Haunted Hill (1959).

Don’t sleep on Virginie Pronovost’s (of The Wonderful World of Cinema) review of Fritz Lang’s While the City Sleeps (1956).

And finally… Join me, won’t you, as I step back in time to 1844, and pay a visit to Dragonwyck (1946).

Dragonwyck



(1946) Written and directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz; Based on the novel by Anya Seton; Starring: Gene Tierney, Vincent Price, Walter Huston, Glenn Langan, Anne Revere and Vivienne Osborne; Available on Blu-ray (Region B) and DVD

Rating: ****½ 

“I didn’t expect you to understand – how could you? Don’t be offended. By ordinary standards, you’re quite intelligent. But I will not live by ordinary standards. I will not run with the pack. I will not be chained into a routine of living which is the same for others. I will not look to the ground and move on the ground with the rest. So long as there are those mountaintops and clouds, limitless space.” – Nicholas Van Ryn (Vincent Price) to Miranda (Gene Tierney)


Many thanks to my excellent co-host, Gill Jacob from RealweegiemidgetReviews, for helping make The Vincent Price Blogathon a reality. I’m excited to be part of this three-day multi-blogger event, covering numerous topics about this fascinating, multi-faceted personality. Be sure to check out all the exceptional posts!

The eminently watchable Vincent Price made a career out of protagonists that you loved to love, and villains you loved to hate. This movie fan, however, enjoys Price best when he’s portraying characters at their worst. With his refined manner and velvet tongue, he could deliver a curse and make it sound like a benediction. Price shines in his landmark role as landowner Nicholas Van Ryn,* the brooding patriarch of Dragonwyck Manor.

* Fun Fact #1: Before Price was ultimately cast, Gregory Peck and Laird Cregar (who died tragically young) were considered for the role of Nicholas Van Ryn.


Based on Anya Seton’s 1944 novel (set in 1844), Dragonwyck displays many of the hallmarks of a gothic romance, including a headstrong heroine in a love triangle, treacherous dealings, and a shadow-filled mansion harboring dark secrets in every corner. The big budget ($1.9 million) production marked the directorial debut of Joseph L. Mankiewicz, taking the reins after the original director, Ernst Lubitsch suffered a heart attack. Their creative partnership initially went well, but due to Lubitsch’s meddling or (depending on your interpretation of events) the broadening chasm between their artistic differences, Lubitsch had his name removed from the credits.


Gene Tierney plays the naïve yet strong-willed Miranda Wells. After her mother (Anne Revere) receives an invitation from Nicholas Van Ryn, a wealthy distant relative, Miranda jumps at the chance (overcoming objections from her father) to venture out of her sleepy farming community of Greenwich, Connecticut to Dragonwyck estate in New York. She finds her benefactor a charming host, but all is not as it seems with Nicholas or the dark legacy he’s inherited. Much to Miranda’s consternation, Van Ryn’s young daughter Katrine (Connie Marshall) views her father and mother Johanna (Vivienne Osborne) with loathing. Nicholas is also reviled by the townspeople, who toil on land he owns, with no possibility of purchasing a plot for themselves.* He enjoys privileged status as quasi-royalty in his private fiefdom, collecting rent from the poor farmers.** A young, idealistic local doctor, Jeff Turner (Glenn Langan),*** sides with their plight and takes a keen interest in Miranda. Turner vies for Miranda’s affections, but Miranda (thanks in part to Nicholas’ machinations) only has eyes for Nicholas.

* Fun Fact #2: This system, a carryover from wealthy Dutch immigrants settling in America, was known as a patroonship (Say it, it’s fun!). You can find out more here: https://u-s-history.com/pages/h3966.html

** Fun Fact #3: T.V. fans might recognize one of the angry farmers, Klaas Bleecker, played by Harry Morgan (aka: Henry Morgan) of M*A*S*H fame.

*** Fun Fact #4: IMDB lists Langan’s height at six feet, two-and-a-half inches, while the Blu-ray commentary stated that he was six feet, five inches. Whichever source you believe, Langan was similar in stature to co-star, Price, who was six feet, four inches. As imposing as he seemed in Dragonwyck, Langan would appear in his biggest (wink, wink) role, 11 years later, as Lt. Col. Glenn Manning in The Amazing Colossal Man (1957).


Veteran character actor Walter Huston plays Miranda’s pious, controlling father Ephraim, who’s skeptical of the world outside his family’s tight-knit community. He takes umbrage at what he perceives to be her shift in loyalty, shunning their simpler way of life for the extravagance of Dragonwyck. Ephraim and Nicholas are polar opposites, representing constraint anchored in religious fundamentalism, contrasted with indulgence and atheism. Nope, there’s not much of a middle ground here, but it’s a story told in broad strokes, consistent with its romantic underpinnings.


While Vincent Price received third billing behind Tierney and Huston, he effectively steals the show from his co-stars as the alternately charming and tyrannical Van Ryn. His character’s true nature is gradually revealed to Miranda once she falls into his trap. He abhors imperfections (“Deformed bodies depress me”), and regards those who work under him as inferiors, not equals (reserving much of his anger for Miranda’s maid Peggy, played by Jessica Tandy). Immediately after his wife’s sudden death (under dubious circumstances that we can spot a mile away), he expresses his intentions to Miranda, as it becomes abundantly clear that his primary goal is to find someone who can provide him with a son. It’s a little too simple, however, to paint Van Ryn as a sneering monster, with his mercurial temper and scheming ways. As expertly portrayed by Price, Nicholas Van Ryn is a man of refinement and contradictions. The ruminative, tortured quality of Price’s performance has invited comparisons to his Poe characters a decade and a half later (coincidentally, in a scene that was in the book but unfortunately omitted from the screenplay, Van Ryn would have met Edgar Allan Poe).


Dragonwyck includes many visual touches that make it rise above simple historical melodrama. Miranda’s introduction to Dragonwyck Manor, perched on a cliffside, is especially memorable, viewed from the deck of a steamboat. Inside the mansion, an ominous portrait of Van Ryn’s great grandmother (who killed herself many years ago) watches over the residents’ heads. Later in the film, when Miranda summons the courage to makes the trek to Nicholas’ secluded attic hideaway, we’re treated to expressionistic flourishes, with the intimidating staircase shrouded in distorted shadows. There’s also a hint of the supernatural, as Van Ryn and his daughter Katrine are tormented by harpsichord playing and ghostly sounds in the night.


Whether or not producer Lubitsch’s alleged meddling created significant waves, it pales in comparison to the contentious relationship 20th Century Fox experienced with Joseph Breen and his Production Code Office, which imposed multiple revisions to the script and even the women’s costumes. In the film Van Ryn mentions his drug addiction, but makes no mention of opium (referenced in the book). Although oleander plays a significant part in the story, Breen wanted to omit any references to how the toxic plant was employed, out of fear that some moviegoers might try to duplicate the deadly results. One of the largest concessions to the Production Code, which dictated that the perpetrator must be punished for his crimes, prescribed eschewing the ending from the book (Spoiler Alert), in which Van Ryn heroically sacrifices himself to save some drowning victims of a steamboat accident. Arguably, the ending that was created for the film works just as well.


Much like its antagonist, Dragonwyck becomes progressively darker as we delve into the mystery of Van Ryn. It’s a fractured love story, depicting a clash between classes, and the perils of unchecked entitlement. Despite her strong performance, co-star Tierney reportedly wasn’t much of a fan of the film. She looks radiant though, and is utterly convincing as a young woman as much in love with a dream as she is with a man. Dragonwyck boasts a uniformly excellent cast, great atmosphere, stunning cinematography and a lush score by Alfred Newman. Price has never been better as Nicholas Van Ryn, in a performance that would set the template for many characters he would subsequently play in other films.

Sources for this article: Indicator Blu-ray commentary by Steve Haberman and Constantine Nasr; 2008 featurette: “A House of Secrets: Exploring Dragonwyck” 
                


Friday, April 17, 2020

The Vincent Price Blogathon Is Here – Day 1 Recap



Gill Jacob of Realweegiemidget Reviews and I proudly present the first day of The Vincent Price Blogathon! To say that response to this three-day blogging extravaganza has been tremendous would be an understatement. Our talented bloggers have risen to the challenge, doing what they do best, to show the many aspects of this multi-talented thespian, epicurean, patron of the arts, and raconteur. We hope their contributions make things a little brighter, while Mr. Price keeps you company during this pandemic-imposed isolation. A giant thanks to Gill for helping to make this event a reality. Additionally, I would also like to extend a big thanks to Classic Movie Hub for helping promote our blogathon, and Westgate Gallery for sponsoring the related blogathon contest.


Watch today’s post for further updates. If you plan to participate but you’re not quite ready, don’t worry, we’ll post your link on Day Two. And of course, it’s never too late to join. Post a comment below, email me at barry_cinematic@yahoo.com, or reach me on Twitter (@barry_cinematic). You may also contact Gill by commenting on her post, through her blog’s Contact Me page, or on Twitter (@realweegiemidge).

Also, a quick reminder: It’s not too late to enter the contest to win an Italian poster pair for The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), courtesy of Westgate Gallery.

 (click here for more details)

The deadline to enter is 11:59 p.m. (Pacific Time) on Saturday, April 18th. The contest is open to all blogathon participants, followers on Twitter, and blog visitors. To enter, all you need to do is answer the question: “What’s your favorite Vincent Price film?”

1. Send your answer by commenting below, emailing me at barry_cinematic@yahoo.com, or by contacting me on Twitter at @barry_cinematic.
2. Only one entry per person, please. Entering multiple times will not increase your chances.
3. PLEASE NOTE: If you reside in the U.S. or Canada, shipping is FREE. International residents (outside the U.S. or Canada) must pay for shipping ($45 USD).
4. The winner will be selected at random, and announced on the third day of the blogathon, Sunday, April 19th.


Without further fanfare, here are the submissions for Day 1. Be sure to check out the following links and remember to tune in Saturday and Sunday for recaps of days two and three!

Thomas W. Hunter (aka: The Anagram Hunter) challenges us to solve another mind-bending word puzzle. How many can you solve (Watch for the answers on Day 3.)? (P.S., check out his books for more anagram fun.)



Was that a zap to your backside, or are you just happy to read Stately Wayne Manor’s take on William Castle’s The Tingler (1959)?

Listen up, sports fans, J-Dub from Dubsism is about to illuminate you on sports analogies in The Ten Commandments (1956).

 It would be truly abominable if you missed Terence Canote’s review of The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1972)!

Ernie Fink from Until the Lights Go Up takes a revealing look at Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (1965)


The incorruptible MovieRob is here to tell us about The Bribe (1949)

Lend me your ears, and listen to the good folks at That’s Cool, That’s Trash as they discuss Scream and Scream Again (1970) in their podcast.


You’re invited to join Vincent’s cocktail party (keeping a safe distance, of course) by Jenny at Silver Screen Suppers:

Brian Schuck of Films from Beyond the Time Barrier makes a big splash with his review of War Gods of the Deep (aka: City in the Sea) (1965).

Be sure to check out Silver Screenings’ applause-worthy review of Curtain Call at Cactus Creek (1950).

It’s two reviews for the Price of one when Hakuna Mocata from Synthetic Cinema looks at The Tomb of Ligeia (1964) and The Tingler (1959).


You’d have to be nuts to pass up on Alex Vorkov’s review of Madhouse (1974).

Celebrate Bat Appreciation Day with Michael Denney of Maniacs and Monsters, as he peruses The Bat (1959).

No matter how you slice it, John L. Harmon’s review (at Tales from the Freakboy Zone) of Edward Scissorhands (1990) is a cut above.

Join Dick Scott of The Oak Drive-In, as he takes you on a tour of The Haunted Palace (1963).

 Don’t touch that dial, because Gill Jacob of Realweegiemidget Reviews just watched Mr. Price in an episode of The Bionic Woman – “Black Magic” (1976).

Saturday, April 4, 2020

Short Take: Lord of the Flies



(1963) Written and directed by Peter Brook; Based on the novel by William Golding; James Aubrey, Tom Chapin, Hugh Edwards, Roger Elwin and Tom Gaman; Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: ***½ 

“All I wanted was a small sum of money, no script; just kids, a camera, and a beach.”
– Peter Brook (excerpt from Peter Brook’s autobiography, The Shifting Point)

“Grown-ups know things. They ain’t afraid of the dark. They’d meet and have tea, and discuss, and things would be all right.” – Piggy (Hugh Edwards)


I’m honored to have been invited to participate in the first ever blogathon hosted by Paul Batters of Silver Screen Classics, the 2020 Classic Literature on Film Blogathon. May this be the first of many blogathons to come.


Director Peter Brook’s (mostly known for his work in the theater) mostly faithful adaptation of William Golding’s enduring novel captures the source material’s key events, illustrating what happens when a group of boys stranded on an island are left to their own devices. Set on a remote South Pacific isle, Lord of the Flies was filmed on location in Puerto Rico and off the coast on the island of Vieques. Adding to the realism of the production, Brook cast boys without previous acting experience, which proves to be a boon and detriment.


The opening title sequence, told in a montage of photos, establishes the boys’ sheltered lifestyle back home in England. After their chartered flight crashes, with no surviving adults, it becomes clear that the boys must fend for themselves if they hope to survive. Attempting to maintain some semblance of order, the children elect a leader, Ralph (James Aubrey). Almost immediately, he’s at odds with Jack (Tom Chapin), a choir boy who leads a pack of hunters. While Ralph endeavors to preserve the status quo as the de facto chief (“The rules are the only thing we’ve got.”), he finds his control giving way to Jack, who rules with fear and intimidation.


While the actors playing Ralph and Jack do an admirable job, Hugh Edwards first and only film role as Piggy is a trifle underwhelming. As established in Golding’s book, Piggy is the moral and intellectual center, representing Ralph’s conscience and a thorn in belligerent Jack’s side. A conch shell, which Piggy discovers on the beach, becomes an important symbol of law and order amidst chaos. When Jack and his followers fail to respect what the conch represents, it’s another sign of a shift in power. Unfortunately, Edwards reads his lines rather than acts them, and his wooden performance diminishes the impact of his scenes.


In the translation from book to screen, one casualty is the significance of the title, made clear in the novel but more oblique in the film. A festering pig’s head on a pike, covered in flies, remains a powerful image, however. The Beast, which figures prominently in the book and movie, is a manifestation of the children’s fears and uncertainty about the unknown. It’s something they can ignore or conquer (with disastrous results). One of the smaller boys, Simon, observes, in a moment of lucidity before his descent into madness, “Maybe it’s only us.” We’re reminded the most formidable opponent is ourselves.  


Lord of the Flies is a story that, given our planet’s current events, couldn’t have been timelier. Although the dramatis personae are children, it’s a cynical, yet sadly accurate microcosm of society. Left to our own devices, many of us might likely resort back to a more primal state, where violence and rash behavior supersede intellect and compassion. The film illustrates how typical schoolyard behavior that many may dismiss as a rite of passage (cliques, bullying and scapegoating), unchecked, can have fatal consequences. Compared to the book, the events in the film seem accelerated, and perhaps they should be. Brook opined that it wouldn’t have taken very long for the kids, without direction, to lapse into anarchy. Constructs like civilization and laws are a veneer to the ugliness that lies underneath. Lord of the Flies is an exploration of the end of innocence, and human nature at its darkest.